Ruthe
(Fate Walks The Roads)

Ruthe (pronounced as though it were spelled Ruth) is one of the most ancient of names for the sacred, but the solidified aspects of the of the Hound of Hell. In most cases, when an individual meets his Hound of Hell, this meeting is usually via Emotion's Interchange Interface. When one does view Ruthe, one can never be sure into which level of creation he is viewing.

In addition, anyone who is fortunate enough to have such an encounter usually sees a different vision, a vision that is suited to the individual's karma. This is because it is usually never seen on this side of the DoubleGate which separates an individual's Ba from his Ka--The Blood Mendella. It is seen from the individual's InnerWorld--it is an individual's Alfa vision. The meeting is known only by the change which this meeting causes within the individual.

However, when any individual does meet Ruthe, they meet the sacred, but solidified Hound of Hell within their InnerWorld... the inner most protected part of their illusion of self. It is like meeting one's self in person. Seldom does one get the chance to speak directly to Ruthe. It is said that Ruthe often serves as an individual's Asphyx; in that if spoken to, Ruthe will lead the individual into another plane of existence which is, usually, like the crossing of a DoubleGate of Reality; again, it is, seemingly, a one-way trip.

While life, itself, continues for the individual, it never returns across the DoubleGate which separates this common reality from the common reality of another dimension, another Universe, another Galaxy, another Solar-System, or another Planet.

Ruthe always is seen late at night, usually along a lonely stretch of a road which is steeped with fog-banks; the apparition is seen either going into or just coming out of a fog-bank. It is said that Ruthe walks the roads of Man, crying for the lost of her children; if an individual ever encounters Ruthe, and if they happen to be near enough to hear, it is said that the seer can hear a shrieking type of wail that is superimposed upon the cry of the wind (the cry of Ruthe is not unlike that of the cry of a Banshee in the howling wind. It is said that if an individual ever hears the cry of Ruthe, the sound is forever in that individual's mind... it is said that he who has heard Ruthe knows his Karma at first glance, as he has dared to look upon the Magic Mirror of Himself).

Ruthe is usually dressed, if dressed be the term, in a dark cloak... or a dark covering that resembles the individual's most feared clothes--rags--which is seldom seen clearly. In any case, he who is so fortunate as to come upon Ruthe, in so doing, meets a special divine teacher whose classroom is not of this Earth... and, whose teachings are far-reaching, indeed. It is said that the chance meeting teaches the seeker, via visions, things about himself that are so secret, even he had forgotten them... it is said that once met, the seeker may never return to his old ways of rambling in search of self- satisfaction... it is said that the seeker must, after the vision of Ruthe, seek the vision that was revealed... the seeker must seek the path to the Tree Of Life.

There are times, after having met Ruthe, an individual could be so changed that those who knew him before the meeting would have difficulty believing that he was, indeed, the same individual. In most cases, such a meeting, however positive or negative the results, would cause that individual to be born again... His life would be spent in the service of Spirituality.

If ever there was an embodiment of all loneliness for all of Man... If ever there was an embodiment of all remorse for all of Man... If ever there was an embodiment of all empathy for all of Man... and, if ever there was an embodiment of one single entity emanating all of this penetrating, yet inert power and energy for all of Man, it would be Ruthe.

If one encounters the apparition of Ruthe, the draining of one's mind is so complete that what used to have value, has no value anymore. It is replaced with a value beyond all individualistic significance taking on an archetype of the form of Ruthe.

No longer does one have the thought of I am... I exist as center of all. If truth would speak for the moment which brought the encounter with Ruthe, thoughts of "I" become insignificant in the face of the reality of Ruthe... indeed, in the face of all.

The moment is so far from our World of The Mundane as we are from our highest spiritual self... all our thoughts flow through every synapse of the brain, through every orifice of the body seeking to teach through every aperture of our spiritual body that there is no "I"... that we exist only as a very small part of the TwinSpecies: Human.

In the face of this truth, indeed, there is no more "I am." Transmigration through Ruthe is a barrier that need only be passed through once, and once passed , there is no possibility of turning back. The "I" has died and suddenly we realize that the sadness we feel is not because there is no one to mourn its passing... We inwardly seem glad that it is dead, not to return. The very moment... the very encounter heralds that the "we" is born... and it is very much alive... it is here to stay-- indeed, we are one!

After encountering Ruthe, the process of merely thinking about the encounter... about the vision's many levels of meanings... will compel one's mind, one's body, and one's emotions to experience the pain of love which comes with the understanding that Man is, indeed, caught in the Hell Of His Own Thoughts... Ruthe teaches us to understand the Harpy that drives the needs... the tormenting anguish... the remorse... and the sorrow which Man's illusions bring.

Indeed, having once been fortunate enough to encounter such a vision... we realize that it is the source of our pain of love for all that exist... as her image, forever imprinted upon the soul, continues to walk the unfrequented, the lonely, the foggy roads of the deepest area of the mind's fears during the darkest of nights... eternally waiting for Man to acknowledge her presence, we who know her wait with her.

The sadness comes with the understanding that we share a moment that has yet not come... She awaits the awakening of Man in a saddened and forlorned shadowing stride. Down Eternity's Road she waits, but forever continues to move onward, carrying us with her.

Between two worlds, she walks. Between that world which is, and that world which could be. Like the Lost Flying Dutchman, she comes into view rarely, and rarely is she seen. But, once crossing her path, one never, never forgets the feeling. The spine tingling chills never go away as one remembers being a part of that moment's presence... as we share the sadness of slowly walking the same road... slowly walking with tilted heads down seemingly positioned just so, pointing to the most resonant and sonorous expanse of Mankind's essence. The sadness is unbound and absolute... indeed, we are one.

All of Man's fears, all of Man's hopes, all of what was Man, all of what is Man, all of what Man could be appears to be consumed, to be absorbed, and to be expunged through the heart of Ruthe as some magnificent, some undefined amplitude of Man's soul bleeding the love Man should have for one another, but poignantly and sadly does not. With such intrinsic verity, a moment passes in the evocation of the image of Ruthe, and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, with piercing clarity, all things seem to be infinitely suspended as we realize that all we have is the illusion of individuality... we are one.

The weeping, silent, and bottomless cry of Ruthe will haunt the soul's slightest weakness in humanity until humanity soars to the strength of its own fate. But that fate seems infinitely suspended in the hands of Man, as he learns to grasp the nature of Truth. For in his attempts to grasp at the drippings of truth, invariably, Man seems to allow it to trickle away... Man has not yet learned that if a love is held too tightly, it will kill the lover as it dies. Love can only exist... love can only be shared if it is allowed to exist free.

If Man could just hold on a bit longer... if Man could just grasp a little harder... If Man just only could, he might feel the death nature of his own grip... of his own desires to keep individuality for himself, only... Is it not said that we crucify our lovers upon the cross of our own makings for the want of making our love into a possession?

It is said that it is I, and I alone who cannot see me for what I truly am... How sad this truth be real...

It is said that one day I shall peek into the Magic Mirror that will show me not only who, but what I truly am... a me without the veneer of illusions... How sad this truth be real.

It is said that when I look into The Magic Mirror that reflects me as I am, then, and only then shall I see the truth of Ruthe... How sad this truth be real.